The 'Just Desserts' Affair
by Avirra
Summary: T.H.R.U.S.H. has never been able to divide the Solo/Kuryakin team, but could Napoleon's competitive nature do the job for them?  #11 of the sound/dialogue series.


**The 'Just Desserts' Affair**

"Illya?"

. . . . .

"Illya – I can see that you aren't asleep. Are you moping?"

"The word is brooding. And yes."

"Why?"

"Try a mirror."

"Huh? Me?"

. . . . .

"How? I mean what did I do?"

"Do you actually do it so automatically that you no longer even notice? Yes, I suppose that could be the case. You know, I cannot conceive of how you can be in a state of perpetual rut. I would have imagined that it would have led to exhaustion after this much time."

"You've lost me, partner. Are you saying that I'm in a rut?"

"No. I am saying that you are **in** rut. Such as deer go in."

"Ah. Err. Ummm."

"If I cannot expect an entire coherent word from you, might I be allowed to return to brooding in peace?"

"No. This is about Doctor Van Akker, isn't it?"

"So, the hormones do allow thought to occur periodically. I truly should be taking notes for science."

"Illya –"

"I would really rather this drop this, Napoleon. It will change nothing except for the amount of sleep I am likely to get."

"You were really interested in her, weren't you?"

"Not at all. I spent over two hours conversing with Irma because secretly she was boring me to tears."

"A little heavy on the sarcasm there, pal."

"If you prefer conversation without it, then do not ask idiotic questions to which you already know the answer."

. . . . .

"Might I return to my scheduled brooding now?"

"No. Why didn't you say anything?"

"What was there to say? I certainly do not own the woman and when you swooped, she did not duck. Which leads me to ask why?"

"Why didn't she duck?"

"No. Why did you swoop? She was not in line with what I generally view to be your usual targets."

"Oh really? And just how would you describe my 'usual targets'?"

"On average? Attractive, petite, long neck, tend to dress in either classic or fashionable attire, well-groomed. I have also noticed a tendancy toward those with hands I would describe as dainty with manicured nails. A conversationalist, but not someone who views that as talking non-stop."

"I do have to give you credit for your observations. That's pretty well dead-on."

"So, again - why? On that list, the only attribute she possessed from it was attractiveness and that term could have equally applied to the majority of the women there. Napoleon - one question and then I personally am ready to drop this topic. If she and I had not been interacting, would you even have noticed her at all?"

. . . . .

"Napoleon. This is one instance where you do not want me to assume I already know the answer."

"I honestly don't know, Illya. But - possibly not. Probably not."

"For a man who was recently trying to talk me into sampling more, you do seem rather determined to keep the dessert cart all to yourself."

"Seems that way, doesn't it? Sorry, Illya. I'm a lousy friend."

"No. You are a very good friend. Good night, Napoleon."

"Whoa. Wait. You've lost me again."

"Perhaps then you are the one that should have been taking notes. How are you lost?"

"Why are we dropping the subject?"

"Because there is no longer a subject to discuss. Good night, Napoleon."

"Illya!"

_sigh_

"Why isn't there a subject to discuss?"

"Napoleon . . . there is no longer a subject to discuss because the matter will not come up again. The dessert cart is all yours."

"Why?"

"Because I can live without dessert, Napoleon. I do not think that you can. We are partners. We are friends. I do not care for us to be in conflict over this. Even if only mentally."

"Irma, huh? You know, we never exchanged first names."

"Just everything else, I take it. I am sorry, Napoleon."

"Sorry?"

"Da. You may have been more physical with her, but it seems I was more intimate."

"Hm. I guess so. You make me sound cheap."

"In the suits that you wear? I do not think anyone would mistake you as cheap. Easy is another matter."

"Ouch."

"If the Italian leather shoe fits, Napoleon."

"Fine, fine. Illya?"

"Napoleon?"

"The dessert cart's still open. Please. I'll try to stick to one or two at a time and not go for sampling them all."

"You probably were that child that stuck his finger into pies."

"Only once. Filling hadn't cooled and I burned myself."

"That does sound like you."

"Still friends?"

"Always friends, Napoleon. Good night."

"Spokoini noche, Illya."


End file.
